


and i will hide you.

by redhoods



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:02:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21964702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoods/pseuds/redhoods
Summary: Claude turns to him, suddenly, a mug in either hand, “Took you long enough,” he says, a soft sort of smile curling at his lips, “I heard you pass the door twice, I think,” he adds, passing by Lorenz close enough that their arms brush.A lot of things come to the tip of Lorenz’s tongue but none of them fully form as he turns to follow Claude through the manor, trying not to stare at his back or the gentle swell of his hips, but mostly failing. He blames it on exhaustion, a long day of travel followed by a lot of catching up with former classmates and friends.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 111





	and i will hide you.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [erebones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/erebones/gifts).



> this was supposed to be holiday specific fluff with mistletoe or something, but uhhhhhhhhh.
> 
> i hope you like it anyways, rache!!!!!!! merry crisis.
> 
> title from good to you by marianas trench.

There’s something to be said for the fact that Lorenz gets turned around four times before he manages to find himself in the kitchens of Goneril Manor. It’s something extremely unkind to Hilda’s ancestors that she’d probably find uproariously funny and the voice in his head that tells it sounds suspiciously like Claude.

That might only be because as soon as Lorenz steps into the kitchen, he freezes midstep, because he’s not the only one awake.

It shouldn’t be surprising.

It’s not actually.

The surprising bit is the broad line of Claude’s bare shoulders, maybe.

Or his bare feet on the cold stone floors versus the fact that Lorenz has socks and slippers on and had actually considered a second pair of socks before leaving his guest room.

Or maybe it’s the singing.

Low, bassy, melodic.

Almyran too, it takes him a moment to realize as he carefully puts his foot down on the floor, not wanting to startle Claude, but not wanting to interrupt, but—

Claude turns to him, suddenly, a mug in either hand, “Took you long enough,” he says, a soft sort of smile curling at his lips, “I heard you pass the door twice, I think,” he adds, passing by Lorenz close enough that their arms brush.

A lot of things come to the tip of Lorenz’s tongue but none of them fully form as he turns to follow Claude through the manor, trying not to stare at his back or the gentle swell of his hips, but mostly failing. He blames it on exhaustion, a long day of travel followed by a lot of catching up with former classmates and friends.

The sitting room Claude leads him to is smaller than the one they’d all been squished into earlier in the evening, only a couch and a couple of chairs in front of an almost burnt out fire. Claude says nothing, leaving both mugs on the table as he approaches the fire.

Lorenz takes one of the mugs and sinks onto the couch, pulling his legs up, and continues to fail to not appreciate Claude as he stokes the fire back to life. “You were expecting me?” He asks finally, taking a sip of the mug.

Spices bloom on his tongue, a flavor that distinctly reminds him of Claude.

“There are few things I can count on these days,” Claude says, back still to him, still crouched in front of the fire, “Our mutual insomnia, I’m glad to see, is still one of them.”

Lorenz frowns at his back, “Things that bad?”

Claude stands and turns to him, backlit by the fire, expression unreadable in the silhouette, “I didn’t expect it to be easy, of course,” he doesn’t move closer, only stands there with his fists curled loose at his sides, “but—”

He cuts off with a loud exhale.

“That heavy?” Lorenz asks quietly, without heat, genuine.

And Claude laughs.

It’s not a good sound.

“Oh,” Lorenz says, “ _darling_ ,” he puts the mug down and unfolds himself from the couch once more. He goes to Claude, touches his arm, palm curling against warm skin, and Claude folds against him easily, suddenly, tucked against his throat.

He wraps his arms around Claude’s shoulders, humming low, “You should’ve come to see me,” he says to Claude’s hair, palms flat against Claude’s bare skin.

Claude huffs against his throat, breath shaking.

“Stubborn man,” Lorenz tells him, too fond, as Claude begins to hum. It’s Claude’s way of asking for some quiet, if only for a few minutes. His way of asking for the chance to put his thoughts back together, to gather himself to talk.

If he wants to talk.

Claude is the one who moves them as well, gentle swaying with their feet flat on the floor, while he hums through some song or another. His hands don’t settle either, against his back, his sides, hips, like he’s not sure where he wants to touch.

Lorenz presses a kiss to the side of Claude’s head, strokes his thumbs against his shoulders, swallows back platitudes and reassurances that Claude wouldn’t want.

“Sorry,” Claude says, clearing his throat, though he doesn’t pull back far when he stops humming, nudges his head against Lorenz’s chin til he tips down, so their foreheads press together. Claude’s hands sneak their way up under his shirt, callouses against his skin.

It makes him exhale quietly, air sharing between them, bringing one of his hands back to stroke his knuckles against Claude’s jaw, through the bristle of hair there, “Don’t apologize,” he nudges Claude’s jaw just enough to smudge their mouths together, “You’re allowed to need time.”

The smile that Claude manages is small, but it’s there, his eyes crinkling at the corners, “Always feels like I’m running out of it,” he says quiet.

“Well, you have three days now, take them,” Lorenz points out, trying to grasp at some thread of imperiousness, just for the sake of it and Claude’s smile, falls a little flat, but Claude smiles wider at him.

“Is that your opinion as esteemed leader of the Alliance?”

Lorenz huffs, nips at his lower lip, edges back before Claude can draw him into a proper kiss, “It’s my opinion as your fiance,” he says, low, relishing in the way that Claude’s expression goes soft, warm. He draws his knuckles over Claude’s jaw again, along the line and down the line of his throat, to the chain resting against his collarbone. 

Claude’s fingers dig in against his side, “Oh, is that what you were checking out?”

It makes him snort, “No, I was checking out your shoulders.”

That draws a laugh out of Claude, “Thank the goddess, I thought I was losing my touch.”

Lorenz laughs in turn, pressing his mouth against the corner of Claude’s, then to the apple of his cheek, between his eyebrows, until Claude’s hand cups around the back of his neck to draw his mouth down where he wants it.

He tastes like spices and mulled wine.

They part slow and Lorenz wants to linger, but Claude loops around him, draws him towards the couch, “I was really looking forward to the wine,” he says, words muffled against Lorenz’s shoulder. Lorenz finds himself nudged back into the side of the couch, Claude draped along his side, and his mug pressed back into his hand.

“I have something for you,” Claude says when their mugs are half full.

“Oh?” Lorenz lifts his cheek from Claude’s head, “A present for me?”

Claude reaches into his pocket and produces a small pouch, black velvet that lays flat in his palm when he offers it up.

Lorenz trades it for his mug, tipping the contents of the pouch into his palm. It’s not really a surprise, the ring that settles against his skin, but it still punches the breath right out of him, the gentle glint of the gold against his own pale skin. He rubs his thumb over the band, then tilts it up. “Have you been carrying this around all day?”

Fingers take the ring from him and he watches quietly as Claude slides it onto his ring finger, “No actually,” he says, draws his hand up to press a kiss against the ring and his knuckles, “I was worried if I carried around all day, I’d want to put it on you.”

“Sap.”

“Fiance,” Claude retorts, thumb rubbing over the finger, eyes bright when he lifts his gaze.

“Fiance,” Lorenz agrees, drawing Claude into another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm @vowofenmity on twitter.


End file.
